


Oh?

by aquabee_13



Category: Super Paper Mario (Game)
Genre: Drabble and a Half, Gen, How Do I Tag, Why Did I Write This?, this has been sitting in my writing for a while
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-12
Updated: 2020-11-12
Packaged: 2021-03-10 03:41:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,575
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27527842
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aquabee_13/pseuds/aquabee_13
Summary: IDK you just have to read it for yourself. It's not bad, i think.
Comments: 7
Kudos: 13





	Oh?

“We meet again,” Blumiere sat down on the cushioned chair in front of the cold, damp cell, holding a very lethargic and wounded jester. From the outside, a bypasser wouldn’t be able to tell if there was something lurking in the shadows of the stone walls, but to Blumiere, it was plainly obvious to see him. He could feel the jester’s broken aura come to him in waves, and occasionally, he could see the gentle flicker of his yellow eye, like a lightbulb running out of hope. As it should be, “Dimentio.”  
He could barely hear the shuffling of clothes, the only loud indicator of movement being the rattle of chains and the bells on the ends of his poncho jingling. Blumiere scooted closer to the cell door, and felt curious eyes on him as he did. Blumiere never went into Dimentio’s cell.   
He was dangerous, even with the inhibitor chains holding him.   
Dimentio shuffled deeper into the corner he leaned against, looking away from Bleck… No Blumiere. He had changed his name back after Timpani had been restored to her mortal / immortal self after the chaos heart had been destroyed and the pixl’s purpose had been fulfilled, thanks entirely to the wizard Merlon. He had been so happy to restore Timpani to her former self, especially when the first time he saw her, she was badly hurt. “What a nice lass.”  
Blumiere frowned a bit and took a package out from the pocket of his long, white cloak. It was plainly wrapped, the brown paper crinkling as he held it and slid it through one of the open spaces of the cell, pushing it forward to the figure in the corner. Dimentio turned his head to look at the small package warily. He didn’t make a move to grab it.  
“Timpani made some cupcakes this morning for an after dinner treat. She figured that if you wouldn’t eat the other food, you would at least eat a cupcake…”  
Dimentio still didn’t touch it.   
“It’s not poisoned, Dimentio,” Blumiere sighed heavily, letting his head fall onto the bars in exhaustion, “Come on, you have to eat something! You’re running low on health! Timpani can hear your blipping from miles away!”  
That was one thing that was a side effect of the conversion spell that Merlon used to turn Timpani back to flesh and bones. When she was first put into the form of a pixl, Timpani had developed a set of fine skills to help the hero foretold in the Light Prognosticus. One of these things was sensing the health of the hero, (or anyone for that matter. Blumiere had been woken up one too many times in the middle of the night to Timpani, still in her nightgown, holding a closed shroom shake to his chest because she was worried his health would dip dangerously.) That sense had stayed with her like a fire to a trail of gasoline, which mostly ended up good for everyone… Mostly is the key word here.   
“That’s… not my… problem,” Dimentio coughed out shakily, finally talking back to Blumiere, who was a bit shocked to finally hear him talk for the first time since O’Chunks had found him on the sandy bank of the river, “You’re… the ones… that won’t let me…”   
“Leave? Well, we’ve seen you be left to your own devices, and we don’t want to have a repeat of-”  
“End my game.”  
Those three simple words stopped Blumiere’s sentence in its tracks, like somebody had pulled the emergency brake in his head.   
“W-What?” Blumiere was quite bewildered. He… couldn’t have heard that right? He eyed Dimentio strongly with a hint of worry. Dimentio had a broken smile on his face.  
“You heard me, I know you did.” 

(-0-)

“Blumiere? Are you okay, my love? It’s almost time for bed,” Timpani questioned, sitting down on the plush chaise lounge that was pushed up against the wall of Bluimere’s study. Blumiere was pacing around the room, pausing occasionally to rearrange the large books on his bookshelf, too deep in his thoughts to notice anything else. Timpani could feel the conflicted feelings in his aura swirling around like a hive of bees that just had their nest disturbed. She frowned. She didn’t like to see her husband like this, not one bit, “What is wrong, Blumiere?”  
“It’s Dimentio,” he sighed, moving instead to the open window behind his neat, mahogany desk. It was a brisk autumn night, a sweet breeze coming off from the Overthere and snuggling in between the orange leafs of the tall trees that were rooted deeply in the beautiful, luscious garden. Here is where Timpani would spend her time working, tending to the blooming flowers and feeding the small birds and ducks that would sneak their way past the palace’s tall brick walls to take asylum in the trees and small pond. Blumiere loved to watch Timpani work in her garden, sometimes being trailed by pea-hungry ducks that wanted her attention, (and more peas). It took the bad stuff out of his mind and replaced it with love and admiration for his wife. HIS WIFE!  
But at this moment, in the bright moonlight, the garden looked like it held secrets and ghosts like a sturdy birdcage, a leftover side effect of when he had taken on the persona of Count Bleck. He hated this side effect. He took a deep breath, “He wanted to end his game. That is why he betrayed me, why he had taken the chaos heart to erase the words I lied about recreating.”  
Timpani was shocked.  
“I believe that is why he refuses to eat. He doesn’t want health while he’s trying to get rid of it.”  
“That’s… That’s horrible! Why would he want to do that?” Timpani stood on shaking feet, “And why would you leave him alone in the cell?”  
“I don’t know…” Blumiere sighed again, running a hand through his combed hair. His attire was in a state of messiness. The sleeves of his shirt were rolled up his arm unevenly, (a habit of his was to mess with the sleeves when he got nervous), his pants the same way. His day had been shifted of kilter after his talk with Dimentio, and it really showed. Of course, the only people who commented on this were Natastia and Timpani. He couldn’t fathom why Dimentio was feeling that way… and he wanted to. This is where conflict in feelings started. On one hand, Dimentio had tried to erase his world. Other worlds. He took the Chaos Heart and manipulated the hero in green, Luigi, to do his evil bidding. He was now the main villain; the bad guy in the story. On the other hand… he did the same exact thing. He had planned to erase all worlds and leave them in ruin, and one world the void did destroy. He had Nastasia brainwash Luigi to try and have him play for the bad guys. He was no better than Dimentio…  
“Darling, you’re lost in your thoughts again,” Timpani put a hand on his stiff shoulder. He nodded solemnly, trying to drag himself out of the mess, but found he was stuck, as if he was glued to them, “Maybe we should go down to the cells. I doubt the darkness is making him feel any better.”  
“Bless your soul, my love,” Blumiere whispered, moving her hand from his shoulder and held it, kissing her knuckles gently. She giggled softly.   
“We should probably keep this under wraps for now,” Timpani said after a beat of silence, “If Mimi or O’Chunks finds out about us trying to help Dimentio, they’ll probably try to… end his game themselves.”  
“Oh Grambi, you’re right! I completely forgot about them!” he chuckled lowly, “That would be… awful, to say the least.”  
“Catastrophic.”  
“Yes, that.” Blumiere agreed, shaking his head. Outside, the moon had been joined by a cluster of thick clouds, dimming the bright glare of the moon’s light. The wind had been put on pause, and for a moment, everything was still. No leaves rustled against each other, no flowers bobbed, and no water rippled. The only sound and movement came from an insomniac bird, who shifted and tittered uneasily. The thin feeling air had been pushed out forcibly, instead replaced with a thick one. ‘This must be the beginning of a storm,’ Blumiere though, ‘how funny.’   
“Should I make some tea?”   
“I don’t think he would drink it… but I would like some…” Blumiere pondered for a moment, “Actually, maybe it would loosen him up a bit. I don’t know, he’s unpredictable.”  
She nodded, taking her hand back from Blumiere’s and moved towards the study’s door, “Okay, dear. Don’t dawdle, darling. I don’t know how long the kitchen’s going to stay empty.”  
That’s right. Mimi usually comes down from her room in the middle of the night to grab some water, and O’Chunks usually does the same, except he grabs protein shakes. Why that would be his beverage of choice, Blumiere would never understand, but that’s beside the point. The couple had to be speedy: make tea, get Dimentio into the kitchen, eat and talk, and rush him away from the kitchen, but based on how low on health he was, this wasn’t going to be speedy, “I will do my best, my love.”  
He could feel her smile on the back of his head as she left the room.


End file.
